Monthly Archives: January 2014

Turning Writer’s Block into Ruby Slippers

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Ever sit in front of your computer, arched like a cat, ready to strike at the keyboard, ideas at the ready and then…they sprout wings and fly out of your head as if they have been summoned by the Wicked Witch of the West to go fight Dorothy and friends as they cross Oz on their journey to see the Wizard?

I am so there. *screams at the fleeing monkeys*

In the past couple of months, I had a brief conversation with @schmutzie on Twitter about poetry and writer’s block. She casually mentioned she did not believe in writer’s block which struck me as interesting as it is something I have struggled with from time to time – heck, all of us writers have, have we not?

Then I seriously considered her idea. Why would we willingly believe in something which only serves as a roadblock to something we so desperately want to do? By doing so, are we giving ourselves permission to daydream instead of dive into the task at hand? The only thing blocking the writer is well, the writer.

What if we refused to believe in writer’s block? Mind over matter and all that. For example, right now? I’m channeling my inner Charles Bukowski and putting his words “writing about writer’s block is better than not writing at all” into practice.

Let’s say you go into the kitchen to cook a batch of muffins. You want these muffins more than anything in the world. You preheat the oven, gather your equipment, and put all the ingredients on the counter. But you realize you are out of eggs, a very necessary ingredient. Do you give up on making the muffins? No. If you’re like me, you Google for egg substitutions or you run to the store for eggs. You mix up the recipe, accepting that while it may not be exactly right, it’s better than no muffins at all.

The same is true for writing.

Even if you sit there and write about not being able to write, it is better than not writing at all. For that matter, you could simply copy another text. The method is to get you thinking and following the patterns of language and imaginative thinking. Granted, what you are currently writing may not be the most allegorically amazing thing to ever hit the page but it is writing nonetheless.

I am currently on Day 11 of author Jeff Goins’ My 500 Words Challenge. Some days I have put the keyboard to the metal and zoomed by 500 words (like yesterday when I wrote over 1k words) and other days, I have barely managed to crank out the 500 minimum words. Right now, I am eying the word count because frankly, I would rather be doing anything other than writing. Sleep sounds good, actually.

One of the things I have really appreciated about the FB group for Jeff’s challenge is the motivation. Particularly Jeff’s motivation. He has constantly encouraged us every day through example and challenges. Just yesterday he told all of us to stop doubting ourselves – that we were indeed, enough. If I am stuck, I pop into the group and scan through some of the threads for inspiration. Sometimes it works, other times, it doesn’t.

I am noticing, however, that my brain is working differently. Instead of just experiencing things and dismissing them, the most mundane things are turning into potential pieces. In fact, my most liked post from the past week was about the dinner I cooked that evening. Until I cooked that dinner, I had no idea what I would write about that day. Then, boom.

Being a writer is not about contracts. It is not about publication. It is not about writing a perfect piece every time your fingers hit the keyboard or wrap themselves around a pen hovering over paper. Being a writer is about writing when you just don’t want to but you have a deadline to meet or a challenge to fulfill. Being a writer is about seeing everything around you as a potential story. It is about digging deeper and challenging yourself to fill in the gaps.

Tonight, and always, I am a writer. A sleepy writer, but a writer. Are you a writer?

Even though we are 11 days in, you can still join Jeff’s challenge. Go here for more information. If you decide to join, I’m going to toss in an extra challenge (which is implied in Jeff’s challenge but not explicitly stated, I dare you to say to hell with Writer’s Block and write whether you feel like it or not. Use this awesome quote as inspiration:

“Discipline allows magic. To be a writer is to be the very best of assassins. You do not sit down and write every day to force the Muse to show up. You get into the habit of writing every day so that when she shows up, you have the maximum chance of catching her, bashing her on the head, and squeezing every last drop out of that bitch.”
― Lili St. Crow

Go forth and squeeze every single drop out of your Muse. Drain her dry. What you find inside may just surprise the hell out of you. Remember, according to Hemingway, ““There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”

At the end of The Wizard of Oz, Dorothy realizes that all she has to do is click her ruby red slippers together and say, “There’s no place like home” in order to get back to Kansas. All you have to do as a writer is click your keyboard and whisper “There’s nothing like writing” to defeat your writer’s block. (Even if it’s angry pecking and frustrated whispers or shouting). You got this, right? Good.

Now write.

 

The Trouble with Beauty and Happiness

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This post is the result of a few conversations I’ve participated in on Social Media over the past couple of days. The discussions centered on beauty, self-awareness, happiness, and one even focused on the gender battle of stereotypes and how body image is presented differently to men and women. These are my general thoughts on the matter. Feel free to dive in with any thoughts you may have as well. Just an FYI, if you’re new here, all new comments must be approved before publication.
People often say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I say that the most liberating thing about beauty is realizing you are the beholder.
~Salma Hayek~
For most of us, we wake up in the morning, stumble to the bathroom, and take care of business before we even bother looking in the mirror. Once we do, however, we judge ourselves for what sleep has done to us. Did we get enough? Do we still have circles under our eyes? What’s that crusty stuff at the corner? Dry lips? Wrinkles? Some of us may have time to do something about it, others may have a scant moment to splash water on our faces before we are overrun with children who need our every waking second.
Our vision of ourselves fades throughout the day as we tend to life at hand. Eventually we know we should shower and maybe do something beyond a messy bun with our hair but we don’t have the time or the energy. Some may go overboard, like Decoy Mom.
I am not saying that there is anything wrong with a natural approach to appearances. Nor am I saying there is anything wrong with wanting to wear make up. Both are perfectly fine as long as you are doing it for yourself and not to please some impossible unattainable standard or to buck said unattainable standard.
Beauty is not some physical state of being. It is a mental state of being. Until we, both men and women, truly believe this and begin to live by it instead of allowing companies and others to define what is perfect, we will live in a state of “faux beauty.”
Beauty is, as Salma stated, in the eye of the beholder. It truly is freeing to realize that YOU are your own beholder. We are of course, our own worst critics. Instead of tearing yourself down about baby weight or big boobs or the size of your behind, see them as how you were meant to be formed.
We are works of art, all of us. Each of us are individual paintings, all perfect in our own ways, curves, no curves, long hair, short hair, red, blonde, brown, black hair, light skin, dark skin, brown skin… we are made the way we were meant to be made. Nothing more, nothing less.
I am full figured, have long brown hair, and while I do get frustrated with what my body can do, I have no one to blame for that beyond myself for not using it for what it was made to be used for – exercise and movement. Lazy. But you know what? I am still happy with my body because I know that it is capable of moving the way it was meant to. I just need to get my head in the right place, something I want to do for ME, not in order to become the next goddess to be worshiped. It is about being healthy not about reaching a number.
The trouble with beauty is that we allow others to define it and have allowed others to define it for far too long. Women are where life grows. Life flows from man into woman. We, all of us, are where we start. We should respect this and allow ourselves slack when it comes to judging the size of the package in which we reside.
Know what I find sexy in a partner? Intelligence, compassion, a sense of humour, a love of geeky things and sporty things. Our minds are the ones that fall in love, not our bodies. Of course physical attraction helps and it is a factor for me (and for most of us) but it is not at the top of my list. Physical beauty fades. Personality, however, is what’s under the surface and THAT’S what you’ll spend your life with….your partner’s personality. I think this is one of the reasons mental health is a struggle for people in love – because it changes your soul. If you keep communication up though, the two of you can work through anything – remembering, of course, that communication is a two way street.
“If I could just be beautiful, I would be happy….”
Beauty starts with acceptance of what we have been given. It starts on the inside, this acceptance. Helen Keller believed that “Many persons have a wrong idea of what constitutes true happiness. It is not attained through self-gratification but through fidelity to a worthy purpose.”
Helen Keller felt beauty with hear heart and soul, experienced beauty through touch, she did not see it or even hear it. She did not work to gratify her inner soul with an outer appearance, rather, she worked to achieve beauty through her works with others.
Today, take the Helen Keller approach to beauty and happiness. Choose a cause dear to your heart and do something to make a difference. Then do something else to make a difference tomorrow as well. And the next. Let your love, joy, and heart be the source of your beauty instead of a jar, a treadmill, or a scalpel. (The treadmill and scalpel, of course do not apply in cases of medical necessity – I want to make that absolutely clear. Surgery or exercise are perfectly acceptable when they are for healthy reasons.)
Go. Be beautiful. Let that light inside of you shine and allow others to see just how awesome and brightly your patina radiates. As you do so, remember these wise words: No one can make you feel inferior without your consent. (Eleanor Roosevelt).
Carry these words as well, by the great Ralph Waldo Emerson:
“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.”
Do not, by any means, consent to allow others to define your beauty or your happiness for they are yours and yours alone to define and achieve.

Heaven is Baked Gnocchi & Cheese (Oh So Much Cheese)

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We just finished dinner.

It was…phenomenal. Fantastic. Deliriously and deliciously divine. Scrumptiously swoon-worthy.

Oh.mah.gawd.

I am sitting here, in shock, to be honest. Why? Because I made dinner without a recipe. Hell, I even went to the store for this without a real plan and ended up grabbing stuff on the fly. I often cook from scratch using just my imagination and it usually turns out absolutely delicious but tonight’s dinner stretched me beyond my comfort zone a bit in using an ingredient in a standard recipe. It was daring and I prayed like hell it would work out. It did – obviously. I had to stop at just one serving because it is the kind of dish in which you could easily over-indulge.

Bacon. Cheese. Potatoes. Onion. Garlic. Breadcrumbs. BACON. CHEESE. POTATOES.

For additional nutritional value, I tossed in a can of quartered artichoke hearts which actually worked quite nicely to balance the dish.

I did not keep track of exact measurements of ingredients but I will do my best in recreating the recipe below because you HAVE TO MAKE THIS and then bask in the heaven that is Baked Gnocchi & Cheese (OH SO MUCH CHEESE). You HAVE TO…it’s a food coma-inducing meal.

baked gnocchi

Baked Gnocchi & Cheese (OH SO MUCH CHEESE)

  • DeCecco Potato Gnocchi (1 pkg made a 9×13 pan)
  • 3 cups 2% milk
  • 8 tablespoons of butter
  • 1 lb Peppercorn crusted Center Cut Bacon (Or any Center Cut/Thick cut bacon will do)
  • 1/2 finely chopped/diced red onion
  • 5 cloves garlic
  • 1 tsp Paprika
  • 1 tsp Kosher Salt
  • Fresh ground pepper as needed
  • Pinch Cayenne Pepper
  • 3 tablespoons flour
  • 2 cups Sharp Cheddar Cheese, Shredded
  • 2 cups Swiss Cheese, Shredded
  • Sargento’s Cheddar Blend, 2 cups
  • Panko Bread Crumbs

Preheat oven to 375.

Cut 1lbs of bacon into quarters. Cook in large deep saute pan over medium heat until crispy, place in a bowl lined with a paper towel to absorb fat. Let drain. Set pan aside. (If you’re the drinking sort – you can save the bacon fat, put it in a clean mason jar, add 1 cup of Vodka, cover, then let it sit overnight in the cabinet. Then put it in the freezer, let the fat freeze. Remove fat. Strain through tea filter, then coffee filter, then cheesecloth. Bacon Vodka. Boom.) Ahem. Where was I? Oh yes.

Large pot – fill with water, add a couple tablespoons of sea salt (kosher will do too), bring to a boil. Add Gnocchi. Once it starts floating, strain it. Put strainer (if you can) over the large pot to let the Gnocchi continue to drain while you start on the cheese sauce.

Chop garlic into fine pieces. Dice/chop onion as well.

Drain the bacon fat from large saute pan. Discard if you want or use it as recommended above. Add 3 tablespoons of butter to pan. Then add garlic. Let it saute for a few minutes before adding onion. Once onion starts to get translucent, add half of the gnocchi, place the other half on a clean plate. Pan fry gnocchi until it is golden brown, 4-5 minutes if you leave it alone and don’t stir it a lot. (Live and learn!) Remove pan fried gnocchi to colander you used to drain the gnocchi after boiling it. Add other half of gnocchi and pan fry until golden as well, removing to colander once complete. While you’re waiting for the gnocchi to pan fry, put 2 cups of milk in the microwave for 2 minutes.

Add 3 tablespoons of butter to pan. As it melts, add all spices – Cayenne, Paprika, Salt, (1/2 tsp or so), few turns of the pepper grinder. Using a wooden spoon, stir until spices and butter combine and turn a light caramel colour. Add flour. Stir until combined. Add slowly (and I mean SLOWLY), warmed milk. Whisk constantly as you’re adding it in order to avoid any creepy lumpage. You don’t want lumpy cheese sauce. Seriously. Trust me. EWWW. Stir constantly, and lower heat to low medium. Get your cheeses.

Add 2 cups of mixed cheddar, 1 cup of swiss, 1 cup sharp cheddar. Stir until melted. Lower heat and add additional milk to thin, up to 1 additional cup. Let simmer for a few minutes.

Open can of artichoke hearts, drain, and squeeze until no more liquid releases. Toss into cheese sauce along with bacon and pan fried gnocchi. Stir until combined and turn off burner, letting it gently simmer in remaining heat.

Spray 9×13 pan with non-stick spray. (We use Misto so we don’t use propellant chemicals). Pour cheesey deliciousness into pan. Top with remaining swiss cheese, then with remaining sharp cheddar cheese. Sprinkle lightly with 1/4 cup panko bread crumbs.

Bake for 25 minutes at 375 degrees.

Melt remaining butter in small bowl.

Remove pan, sprinkle with additional panko, maybe 1/2 cup. Drizzle with melted butter.

Adjust oven temperature to 400. Bake for an additional 10 minutes or until top is golden.

Remove from oven and let sit for 10 minutes before serving to let cheese settle & cool. We want to enjoy the cheese, not have it sear our taste buds off. Warm gooey cheese is good. Molten searing cheese is bad.

Eat intentionally, savoring every single bit, wishing time would stop so you could eat this forever.

 

Whatever Wednesday: Too Cold for Wine n’ Jesus

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Due to the extreme cold our area experienced yesterday, a real event called Wine n’ Jesus was cancelled last night. This is a very fictional conversation based on the decision to cancel the Wine n’ Jesus event. Enjoy.

INT. LIVING ROOM – MID-MORNING.

COZY LIVING ROOM. GREEN FLORAL COVERED FURNITURE.

PICTURES ON WALL OF CHILDREN AND GRANDCHILDREN. DOILIES EVERYWHERE. CUP OF TEA ON SAUCER ON END TABLE NEXT TO CHAIR.

MARTHA SITS IN THE CHAIR, WRINGING HER HANDS AS THE TV BLARES THE WEATHER FORECAST FOR THE EVENING AT 8 PAST THE HOUR.

SHE STANDS, WALKS TO KITCHEN TO GET THE WIRELESS PHONE.

MARTHA RETURNS TO THE LIVING ROOM, SITS DOWN, SIPS TEA, AND SETS THE CUP BACK DOWN ON THE SAUCER. A CLINK OF PORCELAIN IS HEARD.

SHE PRESSES THE BUTTONS FOR HER CO-CHAIR AND LIFTS THE PHONE TO HER EAR, LISTENING TO THE RINGING AND WAITS FOR HIM TO ANSWER. 

MARTHA

(SHARPLY)

ROGER? Is that you?

ROGER

(clearing throat)

Hullo, MARTHA.

MARTHA (CONT’D)

ROGER, I am worried about the meeting tonight. It is entirely too cold out there.

ROGER

Too cold out there for Wine n’ Jesus? 

MARTHA

Yes, ROGER. Entirely too cold. There is a time and a place for Jesus but we shouldn’t expect people to freeze to death and meet their maker earlier than they are meant to, now should we?

ROGER

For heaven’s sake, MARTHA, it is just a bit of cold. The church has a heater. The power is not out, the roads are not icy, and vehicles have heaters in them. Explain to me why we are cancelling our Wine n’ Jesus. I have the wine already chosen and ready to go. Also, I thought tonight was going to be the Bible Jeopardy night. You know how much fun Bible Jeopardy is once we have all had a bit of wine.

MARTHA

Yes, yes, I know. But ROGER…sometimes, we have to put safety before Jesus, and particularly before wine. I love wine just as you do, ROGER, but tonight it seems we need to put it aside. It is what He would want us to do.

ROGER 

You’re not thinking clearly, MARTHA. There is no danger aside from the frigid cold. Which, from what I understand, you should be quite adept at surviving.

MARTHA

(inhales sharply)

What on EARTH is that supposed to mean, ROGER?

ROGER

Oh you know exactly what I mean, MARTHA.

MARTHA

No, I am afraid I don’t, ROGER.

(she crosses her legs and adapts a defensive seated position)

ROGER

Oh, I’ve talked with Frank. I KNOW how frigid you are, Martha. I know.

MARTHA

(shrieking)

I am not going to dignify that with a response, ROGER. How dare you bring that up in this conversation. Wine n’ Jesus is cancelled. Do you hear me, ROGER? (yelling loudly now) CANCELLED!!!!

ROGER

But MARTHA…

MARTHA

CANCELLED! GOOD DAY!

She hangs up the phone and appears to mumble furiously to herself as she dials the number for the local news station to get the information for the cancellation submitted, pressing the phone to her ear once she is done dialing. 

MARTHA

Hello? Is this where I submit information for cancellations?

OPERATOR

Yes, it is. Name of the event?

MARTHA

Wine n’ Jesus.

OPERATOR

Wine and Cheeses?

MARTHA

(exasperated sigh)

No. Wine n’ Jesus. As in Jesus our Lord, not cheeses as in Brie, Gruyere, and Colby Jack. JESUS. As in the Son of God.

OPERATOR

Oooohhhh. Yes. As in Jesus turned the water into wine.

MARTHA

Well, if that is how your simple mind wants to remember it, yes.

OPERATOR

Excuse me, ma’am?

MARTHA (mumbling)

Oh, nothing. The Wine n’ Jesus event is tonight at 6pm. It is cancelled because of the cold.

OPERATOR

Because of the cold?

MARTHA

Yes, that’s right. What is so difficult to believe about this? It is dangerously cold out there!

OPERATOR

Yes ma’am but it is actually warmer tonight than it was this morni…

MARTHA

Don’t you get all high and mighty on me too, missy. It’s cancelled due to cold. Now put it up on your website so the people know it is too cold for the Wine n’ Jesus tonight, please.

OPERATOR

Yes, ma’am. Is there anything else I can do for you? Pray, refer you to a therapist, give you some wine?

MARTHA

Well, I never… (sighs loudly and pushes the END CALL button)

Martha sinks back into her floral chair, a frustrated look on her face. She slams the phone down, sips her tea. It is now cold.

A Simple Dream

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A mum in the UK recently took her own life. Fellow PPD blogger Ivy Shih Leung wrote a very long and insightful piece about it here.

While I have not read anything beyond Ivy’s piece, I want to address one of the issues Ivy touches on in her post. For me, it is one of the primary reasons women who struggle with a Perinatal Mood & Anxiety Disorder still fight so desperately with reaching out for help and then with actually receiving the proper help.

Our battle has multiple levels. Were PMAD’s a video game, we would have to survive level after harrowing level before finally reaching a properly educated doctor or therapist. Some of us may be lucky enough to skip all these harrowing levels but for most of us, we are destined to fight with all we have while we don’t have much just to get by in a world expecting us to be super mom while we are at it.

First, we have to fight with ourselves to acknowledge that there is a problem.

Then, we fight with loved ones for help with every day tasks and with reaching out for help.  We fight the argument that we are “faking” or “pretending” just to get out of housework or parenting. We are, some of us, told to suck it up and get over it. Move on. We’ll fall in love with our children eventually. Worse yet, some of us are told depression is some sort of luxury the former generations did not have time with which to deal.

Next, we fight with the front desk folks at the doctor’s office who may tell us such things as “If you’re not suicidal, don’t call us until you are.” (And yes, shamefully, that DOES happen in real life).

We then level up to arguing with a doctor who may brilliantly tell us that our hormones should be back in order by now so of course it can’t be Postpartum Depression despite the fact that we just admitted several high risk symptoms to them. So we are referred to the therapist who calls and reschedules until we are exhausted and cancel altogether.

So we suck it up and try to make do on our own until the next baby when we completely fall apart and start the entire routine all over again. Only this time around, there is a little less resistance from family members and friends because they have seen you go through this before and realize that maybe, just maybe, she isn’t making it up this time around.

But we have to stay off the Internet because it’s a dangerous place for a woman with a PMAD to be – we will be judged for breastfeeding while taking medication or for giving formula because we have to medicate. We didn’t try hard enough to protect ourselves, there is something wrong with us. Damn straight there is something wrong with us – it’s an illness, it’s real, and it is hell.

Psychiatric stigma is bullshit. The divisiveness motherhood brings to a woman’s life is bullshit. Hell, sometimes just being a woman altogether is bullshit. Why we judge each other so harshly for our choices is so beyond me I don’t even know how to begin to understand why we do this. I’m serious – I truly do not understand the in-fighting or bickering.

It comes down to understanding one simple truth:

Each mother needs to do what is best for HER and for HER family. As long as she is doing just that, we do not need to judge, we do not need to place blame, stigma, guilt, or any other negative blanket upon her or her family.

The Internet can be a fabulous place for support if you end up surrounded by the right people and ignore the wrong people. It’s finding the wonderful people that is the challenge.

I have a simple dream, in closing. It’s a dream that one day, mothers of all sort of different beliefs, will be able to have a discussion about parenting without inadvertently reducing each other to panic attacks and/or tears because they’ve judged someone for doing something outside the realm of *their* comfort zone.

One day, right?